


You can't choose your family.

by GallavichGeek13



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bar Fight, Homophobic Language, Ian will always have mickeys back, M/M, Mickey is tired of fighting, Mickey thinks back to when Terry caught him and Ian, Protective Husband, Season 11 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26610721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallavichGeek13/pseuds/GallavichGeek13
Summary: Mickey is tired of all the hate, he is tired of not being able to just live his life with Ian and he is tired of homophobic fathers thinking they can do and say whatever they want.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 22
Kudos: 178





	You can't choose your family.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration hit me once again after we got more BTS photos from Noel and Steve. This is based off the photos we saw of Ian and Mickey holding ice packs in the Alibi.

* * *

Mickey storms into the Alibi like a man on a mission.

“Beer and a shot of whiskey.” He grunts as he takes a seat on one of the stools.

“No hello V, how are you?”

Mickey just looks up at her and glares, not in the mood for her sarcastic banter.

It’s not even noon, but with the morning Mickey has had, hell the whole week, he needed to take the edge off. Still wearing his tank top and sweats after his morning run, because that’s something he does now after Ian convinced him that they weren’t young 16 year olds anymore and they needed to take care of themselves, his legs automatically lead him to the direction of the Alibi.

Mickey and Ian have been on the hunt for an apartment for awhile now, needing to get out of the Gallagher house and have their own space. Sure, the Gallagher house is practical in terms of bills getting split between everyone and sometimes coming home to find food already cooked or the washing done for them, but when they get woken up at 6am to Franny screaming for breakfast or Debbie knocking on their door asking if they could baby sit while Ian is balls deep inside Mickey, it kind of puts a damper on the newlywed bubble they had going.

Unfortunately the hunt for an apartment was harder than they thought it would be. Every place they were applying for were knocking them back quicker than they could fill out the application form. At first they thought it had to do with the fact that they both had done time, but even with a recommendation letter from their PO and Ian and Mickey dropping their expectations on where they could live, applying for something not even a crack addict would want to stay in, they were still getting rejected.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Mickey was on parole and trying to stick to the whole straight and narrow path, plus Ian begging him not to do anything stupid, he would have punched a few faces in and cracked a skull or two to persuade someone into saying yes. Deep down Mickey was still a Milkovich though and he still knew a few people that could help get some answers for him, so that’s what he did.

Which is why Mickey is in need of a drink. During his run, he got a call from one of his cousins. Turns out Terry has been threatening everyone they have given an application to, warning them that if they allow two _“faggots”_ to live in one of their apartments then he is going bring hell down on them with his glock, brass knuckles and a pair of pliers. That was enough to convince anyone to say no, even if they didn’t know that Terry Milkovich always followed through with a threat.

“Rough morning?” V asks as she places the drinks in front of Mickey.

“Just another day of Terry wishing I was never born.” He downs the shot and then reaches for the beer.

“Well if it helps, he hasn’t stepped foot in here for awhile so you shouldn’t have to worry about your paths crossing anything soon.”

“The last time he was in this place I came out in front of all our family and his friends, no way would he want to be reminded of that.”

Veronica starts to wipe down the bar in front of Mickey.

“That fucking prick has had it in for me since the day I was born. I’m not even a Milkovich anymore but god forbid I tarnish the Milkovich name by being gay.” He rubs his eyes and squeezes the bridge of his nose, hoping it will lessen the headache starting to come in.

“We all have shit family, that’s why family isn’t just about blood. You can choose who they are rather than decide to stick with the one you have. Ian is your family now. Fuck Terry, just, you know, stay out of his way so you don’t get shot.”

V walks away to serve another customer at the end of the bar. Mickey grunts at her comment and wishes it was that easy to avoid a bullet from Terry Milkovich.

Sipping his beer, Mickey allowed the quiet of the Alibi to calm him down. He was suddenly brought back to reality when he hears the commotion coming from a guy sitting at the end of the bar closest to the pool table.

“Gay! My own son is a fucking fag- faggot.” He hiccups on his own words.

“I only have one son, what-what’s that mean for my blood line. Huh? It ends with me.” He slurs his words as he takes another sip of his beer.

Mickey motions for Veronica to get him another shot. She can see the way he clenches his teeth as the drunk continues his rant.

“He-he says he is still the same kid I raised, that nothings changed. Pffft, I didn’t raise a son who sucks dick. I can’t even look at him now without seeing him take it like a bitch.”

“Why don’t you shut your fucking mouth before I do it for you.” Mickey looks at him and hopes his face says it all, but honestly he would love nothing more than to take his anger towards Terry out on this prick.

The drunk stumbles off his stool and walks a little closer so he can see who spoke to him.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then this faggot will happily shove his foot up your ass and ram his fist down your throat. Who knows, maybe you’ll like it and realise you’re not so different from your son.”

“Are you calling me gay you-you Homo?” Surprisingly Mickeys comment had sobered the guy up enough for him to stand up straight.

Mickey stood up, their height not so different, allowing Mickey to use it to his advantage.

“I think you should go home before you regret the next thing that comes out of your mouth.” Mickey raises his eyebrows and bits his lip.

The drunk is silent for a moment, it causes Mickey to think he has won, so he sits back down on his stool and takes a sip of his beer.

“You’re that Milkovich kid right, the one that broke out of prison a few years ago?”

Mickey didn’t take the bait. He reminded himself that he was on parole and Ian would be pissed if he started anything with this low life.

The guy takes another step towards Mickey, “Yeah, ah, Michael right, or Michelangelo? I don’t know, some gay ass name. I’m surprised, being a Milkovich I would have thought Terry would have beaten the gay out of ya.”

He turns around to look at the others sitting at the bar behind him, proud of his little comment. That was his mistake. In a split second Mickey was up so fast he tipped his own stool to the floor and landed a punch to the mans left cheek.

“Fuck” Mickey sighed, realising that once again he let his anger get the better of him, but this prick had it coming. His words brought back the memory of Terry beating him to a bloody pulp.Ian lying almost lifeless on the couch beside him while Mickey took punch after punch, releaved that Terry had turned his fists back to him and not Ian.

Mickey doesn’t regret much in life, but that day is one he will forever wish he could do over. How he’d tell Ian to go back to the group home rather than selfishly enjoy one more moment with him. How he would have suggested they stayed in the bedroom rather than be on the couch for anyone to talk in on, for Terry to walk in on. How he wishes he wasn’t so scared not only for his own life, but for Ians, causing him not to react quick enough to grab the gun from Terry and shoot him himself. Once the cops took one look at Ian and Mickey they would have known it was self defence, he would have done a few months if that. Mickey didn’t like to dwell on the past though and he had to remind himself that he and Ian were now okay. They were married and safe and together. Although it took them a lot longer to get there,they made it in the end.

Mickey was so busy thinking about what happened that he didn't realise that the guy was now coming towards him. He threw a punch to Mickeys ribs, knocking the wind out of him and then grabbing his tank top to push him down to the floor to get the upper hand. He used his body weight to pin Mickey to the ground by placing his legs on either side of his waist, allowing him to keep throwing punches into mickeys side.

Trying to catch his breath long enough to have the energy to push the guy off him, he suddenly felt the weight lift off his body and turned to see that Ian now had the guy by his shirt and was throwing punch after punch to his face. At the third hit Mickey heard bone crack and a scream as blood gushed from the guys now broken nose.

“You ever lay a hand on my husband again and I’ll break a lot more than your nose. Now get the fuck out of her.”

Ian let go of the guy and Mickey watched as he headed towards the door, not even looking back as he held his nose to try and stop the bleeding.

Ian walked over and offers a hand to Mickey to pull him up from the floor.

“You okay? What happened?”

Ian reached for Mickeys ribs as he could see the way Mickey was holding his side, wanting to check to make sure they weren’t broken.

“Just another fag bashing. I had it by the way.”

Ian lets out a little laugh and leads Mickey to a table.

“I’m sure you did tough guy.”

Ian looks over to the bar, “V can we please get some ice?”

Mickey sits down, Ian taking a place next to him. Veronica comes over with two bags of ice, hands one to Mickey as he places it on his ribs and Ian takes the other for his hand.

“I love you both and I won’t tolerate homophobic assholes like that in my bar. But do I have to remind you two that you are both on parole? You want to spend your first year as a married couple back in prison?”

Ian and Mickey pass a glance at one another and stay silent.

“That’s what I thought.”

Veronica walks away and begins cleaning up the empty glasses and picking up the stool Mickey tipped over.

“So what exactly happened Mick?”

“Nothing, he just-” Mickey took a breath, as hard as it was with the pain he was feeling in his side. He turns to Ian.

“He was going on about how disappointed he was to have a gay son and he may have recognised me and started saying some shit about Terry, I don’t know. I’m just sick of it you know. And with Terry out there still trying to make our lives a living hell, I just wasn’t thinking.”

Ian took Mickeys hand and waited for him to look up at him.

“There will always be people out there that hate us and don’t understand. I blew up a van trying to get people to realise that there is nothing wrong with being gay, but you can’t change everybody’s mind.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“On the bright side, I think I got ourselves an apartment."

Mickeys eyes widened at Ians comment.

“What? Where? How?”

Mickey hadn’t even had a chance yet to tell Ian about Terry and his threats of violence to keep them homeless.

“Here.”

Mickey looks confused.

“Kevin told me about the apartment up stairs and how they were looking at leasing it out again.”

“You mean where I had the rub and tug business?”

“I mean, we’ll clean it up but lets be honest, we have applied to places that were a lot worse than this and I’m pretty sure a couple of them people had been killed in.”

Mickey turns towards Veronica.

“You knew about this?”

“Of course, whose idea did you think it was to offer it to you two?”

Mickey looked down and smiled, not wanting Veronica to see the full extent of his gratitude showing on his face.

“Don’t think I’m going to let you use the excuse of having sore ribs to get out of packing either. Let’s head back so we can grab our stuff.”

Mickey stands up and pulls Ian in by the shirt so he can give him a kiss. As he pulls back he still holds onto Ian but doesn't look at him.

“I’m sorry, for, not fighting harder for us, back then, when Terry first-”

Ian put his hand behind Mickeys head and pulls him forward so their foreheads were touching.

“I know. I am too. I was just as scared as you, not knowing what to do, what _he_ would do. We were both suffering, but we are here now, that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go get our things so we can go home.”

“You’re my home Mickey, not some place, _you_. Always have been.”

Ian tilts Mickeys head up so their lips touch, Ian can feel the sigh that Mickey releases against his mouth as the tension leaves his body. Deep down Mickey knew Ian was right, he never had a place to call home, a place he always went back to, only Ian, he was the only one he couldn’t let go of, couldn’t give up and couldn’t walk away from. Ian was his home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it.  
> If you are interested my Instagram Gallavich edit account is @gallavich.geek


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